


Strength in Numbers

by salishseaselkie



Series: A Song of Broken Treasures [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Female Friendship, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salishseaselkie/pseuds/salishseaselkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The defining moment when Isabela and Geneva started down the road to a more meaningful friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength in Numbers

Geneva was not hard pressed for friends when she lived in Lothering. Despite her magic, there were plenty of people willing to shelter a healer from the templars in exchange for a spell for their rheumatic wrists or their child’s pox. Many people looked to the Hawkes for protection against poachers and looters, highwaymen come to prey on a town with an absentee bann.

In Kirkwall, for the first year, Geneva only had her mother, her brother, the dog, and Antonia – Gamlen was more a pest than a friend. Then Varric intercepted her and Carver outside the Merchants Guild after their argument with Bartrand. Immediately, they went to the Hanged Man – Geneva had never been inside it, only looked on in wonder. She was not one to explore on her own, and Carver stuck close to Antonia in those days if they weren’t out on business.

It was in the Hanged Man that Geneva met her best friend.

Isabela made quite a show sticking it to Lucky and his gang – though Geneva was of the opinion, however capable she was, that Isabela should not have to go it alone against so many. It was why she was so quick to agree to help her fight Hayder in the Chantry, why she was so willing to agree to help her find her relic. In Isabela, she saw someone who needed her.

Of course, in the beginning, Isabela insisted on being stand-offish, and with good reason. Geneva had never given her good reason to trust her, and she seemed the sort who had seen too much – they all of them had likely seen too much, but for their little group, Isabela seemed the one who had been put back together one too many times.

But Isabela was always pointing Geneva in the right direction, and so she returned the favor, never pushed, never prodded, and Isabela thanked her for it in her own wry way. Finally, one night, Isabela stopped by the hovel, and collapsed by the fire. Gamlen was out, again, and so were Carver and Antonia. Leandra was asleep, and Geneva was awake, studying a spell book Anders had swiped for her.

Geneva opened the door, and Isabela plodded right in. She raised an eyebrow at the raider. “Aren’t you due at the Hanged Man? Varric said he was going to start a Wicked Grace tournament…” Isabela cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And risk all my coin to men who will only throw the table once I win? Please…I will wait for Merrill to learn how to play better.” She scratched Briar behind the ear. “Besides…I don’t quite have the energy for playing games tonight.” Geneva sat down next to her.

She folded her hands in her lap, looking on. “Anything the matter?” Isabela smiled at her, and then shook her head.

"Always so serious, Hawke..." But Geneva looked on gravely, not letting it drop. Isabela sighed. “It’s no bother. I shouldn’t have disturbed you from your reading. All you need to know is that I will eventually have it sorted.” Her eyes gleamed in the firelight, but not out of happiness.

Geneva put a hand on hers. “Bela, you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but…I am here for you if you need me.” Isabela gave her a knowing look.

“Sweet thing,” she murmured to Geneva. “More people ought to have friends like you.”

“Do you need anything?” The lull that followed Geneva’s question pointed her towards the affirmative, and she was right, to a degree.

“I could use a bath. Living down by the docks can give you a real stink.” Geneva laughed and stood.

She put her hands on her hips and offered, “I will go fetch some water then, shall I?” Isabela frowned.

She stood and faced Geneva. “No, sweet girl. You don’t need to serve me.” But Geneva put her hand up.

“Please, Bela. Let me take care of my friend.” Isabela’s eyes crinkled, and she turned to look at the fire. Before Geneva left the room to fetch a pail, she almost swore she saw a tear shimmering down Isabela’s cheek.

* * *

 

“Hawke! Where do you keep your oils?” Geneva scrunched up her nose. Oils? She had lamp oil…

She called back, “I have soap…? What do you need oil for?” An exasperated sound came from the washroom, then sloshing of water, and the thud of two feet on the floor. A few minutes later, Geneva feeling very sheepish, Isabela came out of the washroom, her hair damp and her skin glowing, free of the grime built up from days of running after slavers and imposter guards.

Isabela put her hands on her hips and gave Geneva a reproving look. “Let me feel your skin.” Geneva held out an arm, and Isabela smoothed her hand over the back of her hand. “Maker, your skin is rough as pumice! You Fereldans really ought to invest more in self-care.” She let go of Geneva’s hand and looked her in the eye. “Tomorrow, we go to Hightown and go shop for some argan oil...and maybe we’ll get you some rose hip oil for your complexion…” Geneva’s hand flew to her face, feeling a little self-conscious. “Don’t worry, Hawke. We’ll get you sorted. It might be a pretty coin for the argan oil, but you’ll find it is a worthy investment. Men and women both will flock to you for how you’ll shine.” And the way Isabela beamed as she spoke of it, Geneva thought it might be worth a try.

* * *

 

Carver did not like the smell of the rosehip oil. “It smells like dirt! Why do you put that stuff on?” Isabela shushed him. "Don't shush me! Take that crap outside!"

"Carver!" Isabela placed a hand on Geneva's shoulder to ease her ire. She already had words for him.

Eyes slicing like daggers, she shot him a look. “We don’t complain about you and your need to go whacking that big stick of yours around outside. You keep your looks up and we’ll keep ours, big boy. Now run along and go take your dog for a walk – the poor thing looks so sullen lying on the carpet like that.” Carver harrumphed and snapped at the dog to follow at his heels. Geneva felt a little bad for Carver – the rosehip oil did smell a bit earthy. But the argan oil…Isabela swiped it over her shoulders and rubbed it in with sure fingers. Geneva’s eyes fluttered shut – she could not remember a time when someone paid this much attention to her.

“Bela?”

“Yes, pet.”

“Where did you learn all this?” A pregnant pause made Geneva regret the question, but Isabela answered all the same.

Her voice was full and somber. “I wasn’t always a raider, Hawke, though I have been for a long time. You do things, you see things, and you learn. One of those things was how to care for myself, even if it was just to take a day for a pampering.” She combed her hair through Geneva’s hair and set to braiding it. “Just make sure it is _you_ doing the pampering, and not someone else. You are never someone else’s plaything.” Geneva wasn’t sure what Isabela was talking about, but she took it to heart.

When Isabela tied off the braid, Geneva turned around and said, “All right, Bela. Your turn.” When Isabela smiled and turned, Geneva felt proud, glad she could be of some meaningful distraction from Isabela's hardships.

When Carver had come back, the pair of them were moisturized and pampered, hair plaited in pretty patterns, and he crinkled his nose at the smell of them, but he was promptly ignored. Isabela tied her head scarf on, and looped her arm in Geneva’s as they walked to the front door.

“Come on," she goaded. "Varric said he has another game of Wicked Grace tonight, and between the two of us, I’m sure we can weasel those sausage-swingers out of a few pretty pieces.” And Geneva smiled as she acquiesced.

It was a hard burden to walk alone, or so she guessed, but Geneva was going to see to it that neither of them had to walk alone again.


End file.
